


Vive La Alliance

by LuKaz3



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Furries, Gen, Heavy Angst, History, LMAO, Non-Con was only implied, OCs - Freeform, WW2, World War 2, but i put days upon days of research appreciate me, scratch that it boutta be inaccurate, this is most likely going to be inaccurate so like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 01:30:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16588163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuKaz3/pseuds/LuKaz3
Summary: June 22, 1940. France really hadn't been expecting to surrender this early on--but it was the dawn of a War greater than the preceding. But with the transition from living to death, he ponders if that was really the reason he accepted the bullet- maybe there was no point, no worth in surviving for a chunk of land.September 29, 1942. He survived, wakes up and realizes that there's more to it than that. Even with everything that's happened and happening, he hasn't lost everything.





	Vive La Alliance

A lot of things, France seem to enjoy overthinking. Perhaps, it was the satisfaction you get from when you find meaning in something so simple or just straight-forward. It keeps you going in a situation that could only be called ‘War’ by a lot.

War means something. It wasn’t mindless fighting, but it’s standing up for what you believe in or what you love. Often times, France finds refuge in the adrenaline and fear that radiates off of war, it keeps him from thinking of some things that doesn’t and would never matter.

The blood of his own men intrigues him in the sense that it makes him realize that each and every one will fall for a fraternity, or most of the time, for something or someone. Maybe a nation, a state of government, a belief, a loved one—the possibilities are endless.

Or maybe something he can’t achieve.

France doesn’t have a family who he’d think about going home to during the war; nor some stupid dream of dying like a martyr—to be fair, he’d experienced that more than it’s enough to mention. At this point, he finds no reason in fighting yet treats it like a way to cope for nothing. Often times, he’d fight for no reason other than to get a satisfying reaction out of his enemy.

The others had something to fight for—a meaning, as he calls it. They have a lot of countries they can call their brother; hell, even the Slavs get the luxury to have that. France doesn’t have...much. Is he just overthinking again?

To be fair, he has America, right? They have a friendship statue for Christ’s sake, it’s got to mean something; anything!

Was he ever around? Or was anyone ever around? The constant bleeding cut from two centuries ago that wraps around his neck will always, always remind him otherwise. That thought plagues him every moment and only war seems to distract him.

But just then did he realize that not even the worst of things could keep him from remembering. Frankly, it’s not that hard to survive a little bit longer than 1940—there was no point and he’s tired or fighting until the end.

He’s so tired of being a martyr.

So this time, he’d die by surrendering, and not fighting for this land he’d kept safe for so long.

That’s not the reason, was it? No, it was an experiment, a test to see if he’d wake up in a safe foreign crib and his first thought would be “someone has finally come to get me,” and not the shallow emptiness that wallows all of his functioning emotions.

It was a good thought, but it felt so unnatural.

He stood there, the damn two-headed bird glowering over France’s beaten body. Germany earned stoic, narrowed, and never vulnerable eyes that his own dictator wore, staring through the poor soul of the French, with a gun pointed at the back of the said nation’s head.

“Jou surrender?” His voice was beyond confusion. France understands the tone clearly, even he feels unclear of what he's doing, "Oui, white handkerchief and all that connerie. Do we really have to prolong this?"

There was a pregnant pause—Germany hesitated in genuine confusion. But the silence suffocated France more than any gun—than any thought.

God, stop being so...

"En finir, Kill me already!"

A hole pierced through his head, and his immortal body took a stupid moment to lose complete conscience. He still feels his body drag away and there was a small thought deep in his thick skull that hopes it's someone else dragging him off to safety.

Why he still has the power to hope, he’s not sure.

\---

A faint beeping was the first noise France heard when the black faded from the corners of his eyes. It took two blinks or maybe three before he realized that he's not in warzone and neither was he in a dark and lonely place.

He was in a room that’s between uncomfortable and cozy, complete with a monitor connected to his heart and pulse, monitoring his heartbeat.

"France!" a voice exclaimed timidly, to which the said country weakly turned his head to. It was Canada, holding a piece of buttered pancake in a plastic.

"Canada, mon sweet fils," France gratefully greeted back as the other nation helps him up into a more comfortable sitting position considering that France still hasn't regenerated his right arm, "You're not with that Germany, are you?" 

"Oh no, no, I'd never betray any of you," Canada's voice reeked of anxiety, "I sent some of my men to help in the war, but I chose to look after the injured, eh? You in particular, Britain told me to focus on."

Only now did France pay attention to his environment. He realized that he's in a surprisingly neat bunker—that means only one thing.

The War hasn't ended.

He reached up to the back part of his head, and realized that most of his head is wrapped in bandages. "Canada, what year is it already?" The Moose clicked his tongue, looking away in thought for a moment.

"It's...1942, mid-Autumn, you were gone for 2 years, eh?" Canada finally answers, "Italy's on the other side."

France dryly chuckles, "Am I supposed to be surprised?" 

"You haven't heard all of it, Japan's with Germany and Italy," He takes a bite out of his cake; "They signed a pact called the Axis Alliance, eh?"

France sourly glares at the ceiling, "Good Riddance. I should have known not to trust the Far Easterners."

Canada smiles warmly, "Don't speak too soon; China's on our side." At that note, France hadn't really thought of what he left behind in the war—-Britain. It was just them at the beginning, meaning Britain fought alone.

France never even told him about Germany's attack; if he remembers correctly, he didn't want to bother him enough with the Phoney War happening and all.

"Who else is on our side?" France asked, a bit hastily as well. "Hm, well...There's me, Britain and China as you should know; even USSR and the other Soviets are in, didn't expect that now, eh?” He pauses, "Oh! America's with us, fortunately."

France's chest was suddenly struck with an arrow of hope, "Who got me? I mean, someone had to have gotten my body from the Axis, right?"

"Well, you really should thank him," He sits closer to the injured nation, "Germany figured Britain would've surrendered or lost after your fall, but everyone was shocked to see him fight even harder, eh?" Canada leans back on his seat, "He operated the Dunkirk Evacuation to save both British and French troops, but especially to get your body. For two countries that fought for an entire century, you seem very dedicated to your alliance."

Ah, right. It was just the Alliance.

"He told me to keep you cared for here since I joined, no one's really noticed that I'm in the war so we realized that you'll be safer here in Toronto, and it worked!" He smiled brightly, "Everyone will be delighted to see you're awake."

France's thoughts rolled back to America, and when he felt the bile rising up his throat, he wasn't sure if it was the fact that his country is still in chaos or the disappointment.

"Merci, Canada." France returns the smile, either way.

\---

As if his throbbing headache wasn't enough, the door slammed open so loudly that it might as well have rung through all of Toronto. 

When France winced and turned to the source of the noise, he found no surprise in a completely concerned China entering the scene. "Aiya! What kind of stupidity was that you showed?" He paced in worry, "Surrendering! Now look, you've got one arm and a hole on your head to show how much of an airhead you were!"

"Bonjour to you too, China." France awkwardly greets back with the same enthusiasm. It doesn’t help that this is one of the relatively few instances of him ever encountering China, and now they’re on the same Alliance. The Asian had to have some experience being a parent when Japan and Korea still haven’t reached their teenage Isolation phase. Even now, it’s imprinted in his personality.

“Don’t you bonjour me! Zhēn fán rén, you Westerners are so irresponsible!” Before China could finish his day-long rant, three other nations welcomed themselves into the room, “Not to brag, but I believe a fellow Westerner took proper responsibility of this damned dog pretty well. He had clearly lost his marbles.”

The elegant voice is easy to recognize, what with the accent any nation would know. This was the part when France’s hit with the realization that he’s got a nation to be grateful about, and as much as he loved to keep his dignity and pride place, he’d do anything to make the situation anything but improper.

“Angleterre, Mon ami, it is always such a pleasure!” France sent the mischievous all-teeth smile that Britain would recall the same nation wearing from all the years they fought with ancient swords pointed at each other’s faces.

“China’s right, that thing you pulled off out there was beyond reckless,” Britain scoffed, “You had me worried when I realized that you and your men were nowhere to be found in Norway—next thing I know you’re dead and I was all alone.”

France sighed heavily and pulled off the best fitting smile he could, “I’d wake up to total destruction without your unlimited competence, you have mon merci,” he suddenly laughs, “Who knew your rampant ego from way back in 1400’s would save us?” Despite the statement, Britain’s tense stance relaxed, but nothing could ever remove the angry furrow of his eyebrows.

That was the time when France turned his eyes to the other newcomers and found that it was only Canada and the terrifying USSR. He felt an anvil-like dishearten in his chest.

“Where’s America?”

The air became notably thicker when he asked that dreaded question, and to everyone’s silent surprise, Canada was the one to make the ‘ahem’ sound and speak, “He...Had to supervise the nuke building...” France’s eyes narrowed, how could building a devastating weapon be more important than his 200 year and first ever friend?

“Then how come USSR gets the schedule to visit me?”

USSR cleared his throat, preventing anyone else from speaking, “The other Soviets can handle it themselves. I trust them.”

Fuel builds up in France’s chest, and accompanied by the pain of his missing arm and the warfare his land is going through without him attacks any rational thought left in his head, and he wanted nothing else but to shout and perhaps with him being in Canada, it would reach past the damn border that’s separating him from the damned Eagle.

“You could’ve sent, like...I don’t know, Russia; Belarus; or even the Baltics, Bon Dieu! Why can’t he send even just a representative like he always do—““Thank you, everyone, but I’ll take it from here,” Britain calmly interrupts, but when no one moved, he barked out a clearer message, “I want to talk to the irrational frog alone.”

When everyone exchanged a look and left, Britain faced France again—who, after he’d been interrupted, resorted to childish pouting and glaring at anything he could glare at. The Brit sighed heavily as he recalled the times when America was young and full of rebellious pride, “Now don’t go throwing a paddy when you’ve just been so lively a few minutes ago.”

When France ignored him, he took the seat directly beside the bed, “Not so happy about helping him in the revolution now, huh?” Britain snickered.

“Shut it, Limey, I’m not in the mood.” The other barked back.

“Alright, I see that my favorite France is back,” Britain shifted comfortably, “Now, we can talk—so talk.”  
The Poodle suddenly acknowledges the entirety of the situation, and felt that feeling again--the feeling that he'd been too self-centered like always, and the least he could do is struggle to avoid it before it gets worse.

"Look, I appreciate your concern but you're wasting it on my childish problems when there's a literal war happening out there," He said, "Just wait for me to fix myself up and I'll be back in the front."

Britain made a sarcastic thinking noise, "Now that's a problem. You see, Germany's completely trashed your homeland up and the only ways how you were revived are because your men signed an armistice with him and your Vichy is a Free Zone," France's face shifted into one of distress, "Either way, he still has control over your land and of course, your regeneration."

"Thanks for the motivation." France groaned out, to which Britain rolled his eyes at, "Brilliant, isn't it? I've got a better plan; you stay here and rest until the War's over." Britain said.

"I'm feeling way worse than during the Great War." Britain involuntarily chuckles, "That's something."

The English worried if he had done something wrong when France's face shifted, but couldn't believe the next thing he stated, "I'll be honest, Angleterre, I don't ever regret the Entente Cordiale. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that I enjoy this...Alliance."

Britain suddenly grew stiff, yet he felt proud of experiencing the pleasant feeling of succeeding in being the closest to a friend. After years of Isolation, manipulating and creating enemies, Britain never had the luxury of having a genuine Alliance.

Maybe that's why his 15th century self was so envious of France's confidence, it helps him be acquainted with so many countries, while young England's pride was more on the self-centered side. It's a wonder how Spain surpassed him in the field of Narcissism.

"It's called Friendship, you frog." Despite the insult, Britain smiles, to which France returns the gesture much more genuinely.

This is it, this is what he wanted.

\---

Britain had been gone for a fortnight, but considering that France is more than a ton of centuries old, it felt like just a few days. The one who had been accompanying France the most was Canada, whose main goal is to stay out of the battlefield and look after France.

It's nice. Ever since Canada was taken away from France's care, they've done everything but catch up. Even between the personal drama and the World War, the Allies had been nothing but comfort to him—hell, even the USSR makes all of them feel protected.

Yet there's still one nation missing.

Just as he had thought of that one country, whom he couldn't describe his emotions for anymore, the door opened and at first, he hoped it wasn't Canada again as he craved at least a different company.

He wishes he had hoped otherwise.

When he turned his head and prepared to say 'Bonjour, Canada', his mouth could only open in shock when it was Britain removing his heavy royal coat and the United States of America right after him, wearing his signature bomber jacket and shades.

"France!" The Eagle grinned almost sincerely, "You were NOT the stubborn empire I remember! Dude, you had us all worried there."

The said nation furrowed his eyebrows bitterly, "Yeah, you sure were worried." Britain rolled his Emerald Green eyes, immediately recognizing that tone from years of fighting, "America rescheduled his day so he could spend the entirety of it with you—he wants to make up for the two week absence." This time, the Brit's glare was directed at the nervous American.

France merely avoided looking at the eyes behind the shades, and turned his attention to Britain, "So you're not staying?" The other nation was startled by the upset tone of his voice—just a century ago, they'd do anything to be away from each other, "I'm, well, afraid I cannot. After all, you have America to accompany you."

France made a small noise, and finally smiled at America, which the States happily returned with a grin. It's better than no visit, considering that America didn't do anything wrong after all.

But that was the problem, he didn't do anything.

“Well...How you doing, French Fry?” America asked as he sat at the closest seat.

The other nation twists his head in America’s direction, a small smile on his face, “I’ve got one arm and an Armistice with Germany; I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”

America’s eyes seem to grow brighter when France gave an equally enthusiastic quote and decided to return the ‘optimism’, “And I have a bombed Pearl Harbor. It’s been some tough years, huh?”

“Bombed?” France’s tone suddenly turned stern, “Who bombed Pearl Harbor?”

The Eagle stiffened—Despite France knowing how uncomfortable he is with serious conversations, he’ll continue to press on if he had to. “Japan attacked Hawaii. It was a year ago, so I’m fine now, alright? I knew right after Meiji Restoration that the little sh—““Language, America.” Britain butted in.

“Sorry, Dad,” He mockingly apologized, the venom in his voice sounding oddly just like during the Thirteen Colonies times, “I’m legitimately one of the fastest-growing nations recently, how uncool is it that I’m still not allowed to swear?”

France snickered, “At least you weren’t treated like some pet. When an English heir was to sit on the French throne he constantly ordered me around like we weren’t in War.”

“Bloody Hell; that was ages ago! We were a ton younger and I was as egoistical as this American over here during those years,” Britain spat, to which France returned an argument, “Why, Pardon, that war merely got me and dear Jeanne D’Arc burnt at a stake—““That was your own people’s fault, not mine!”

“Oh Jesus,” America’s eyes switched between them anxiously, “E-Entente Cordiale! Remember the Friendly Understanding!”

Before any of the other two could reply, the door bursts open and USSR welcomes himself in, holding a folder of papers in his paws, “UK, we received a message from Italy.”

The sound of America’s chair moving against the floor echoes through the room, “Haven’t we defeated them a month ago?” As America approached, USSR’s eyes narrowed almost threateningly, “I was talking to Britain, you capitalist scum.”

America groaned in frustration, “For Christ’s sake, Soviet Union, we’re in the same team so let’s just fight later, alright?” USSR rolls his eyes, but gives the papers anyway.

“What is this?” Britain asked as he snatches the folder away from the Eagle’s claws. USSR clears his throat, unsure of how he’s supposed to word it, “Now that the Italian Resistance is getting more influence, Italy’s having split personalities, and now he—well, he declared war on Germany,” France finally turned his head at their direction, “His personality crisis is dangerous, should we still make peace with him?”

France sits up, “Let him in. I’d want to take the risk, we’ll have more Allies to distract Nazi Germany then,” Britain was the first to ask him, “Distract him from what?”

He hesitated for a bit, biting the bottom of his mouth before confidently raising his head, “I want to go back to my Homeland—to Vichy.” Before anyone could protest, France opened his mouth again, “It’s my country, and even if I’m still under Germany’s control, my people will always come first before me.”

“Then I’ll come with you.” Britain announced calmly, where in America interrupted in and stood alongside the Monarch, “I’m coming too!”

“Nyet, I swear I’d rather spread Fascism than have all three of you together in a stealth mission,” USSR steps in with his arms crossed across his chest, “I’m going to send Russia instead, and any of you two can come with if you’re that desperate.”

France nods in agreement, “Britain can come with.”

While America showed an intense emotion of confusion and betrayal, Britain looked almost smug and at the same time, shocked. However, it showed for a flash, before the both of them regained their calmness and struggled to avoid commenting on it.

USSR, on the other hand, sighs in relief, “I’m glad that you’re cooperating well,” He said, “We’ll have an emergency bunker prepared and we will be informing the Vichy Government. It should all be prepared in several months—for the rest of the Allies, the War goes on. I’ll be taking my leave, Доброй ночи.” He ended his sentence with a salute, before walking out of the room with the folder of papers.

Britain’s attention turns from the door to America and France, the tension present in the air. He exhales heavily, “I’ll be taking this as my cue to leave, as well. The next time I return, you’ll be out of this bunker, so you better rest up.” He spared one last glance at them as he ties his coat back on, before following after USSR.

When the door creaked close, a silence which France knows all too well enveloped the room. This time, though, another nation sits with him in the bunker and the air is nothing near comfortable.

The first to break the quiet was a bitter America, “That was not funny.” France raised an eyebrow, “What’s not?” It felt as if he was teasing it, and it irritated America to no end, “That thing you just said. Is Britain really a better ally than I am now?”

The Poodle turns his position on his bed so that his back is facing the other country—he’d rather not see his face while this conversation is occurring, “If I were to be honest? Oui, he is.”

“Why? What did he do in 30 years that I didn’t do in 200 years?”

It was so hard to visualize that this talk would even happen, so France never had the time to imagine what he’d say to any sentence America would ever say. He felt anxious and so vulnerable and at the same time, so self-absorbed. He knew he had to confront the other nation of their odd alliance that doesn’t seem to work as well as it used to, but he didn’t think it would take so much willpower to let out what he wanted to say.

“When did you join the War?”

America’s eyes glared, “Don’t change the subject.”

“No, when did you join?”

There was a loud sigh, before France got the reply he deserved but didn’t want, “December 1941, after Japan attacked Hawaii. What does it have to do with anything?”

And there it was—the tight feeling in his chest. It wasn’t for him, how selfish could he be to think that he’d be there when he died? Isn’t the French Revolution enough of a proof already? “You didn’t do anything about my fall.” France said in a concluding voice, as if there was no excuse to it.

And there isn’t.

“No, not true. I had to stay neutral after the Gre—““Non, arrêtez juste, Amérique,” France shut his eyes tight close, and hoped he’d fall into the darkness that is sleep—or death—whichever of the two is fine, “S'il vous plait.”

The weak tone in his voice and the small shiver of France’s body was what drove America out of his own struggle to think of justifications for his own actions, instead the realization sent a pang to his aching brain. He stopped for a few hours, stressing his head over personal drama and the world crisis happening just outside that bunker—this is what Independence is like.

You deal with it alone. Is that what France felt like?

“French toast, I...I’m so sorry, I didn’t thi—“Before America could continue, he realized that the other nation was breathing softly—he was asleep and it was late at night; too late, quite literally.

\---

With the help of Canada, France is aware that it had been a full year since that encounter—the moose explained that it’s currently August 1943. It’s odd to imagine that it’s been three years since he’d been in the battlefield, and he couldn’t wait any longer to help in the War at the very least, even if it’s just handling the Vichy government.

Fortunately, surviving French Troops are still fighting in any way they can. While rest may be all he needed, France still felt every stab of pain every time his land is damaged by who he can imagine as the Germans.

Little by little, France struggled to walk and function with one arm despite the agony in his body each time he moves. Eventually, he learned to resist even the unexpected pang of pain with only a flash of a flinch. Lately, he felt even more confident to not just supervise Vichy or his troops, but even be in the battlefield itself.

That is, if he could escape the other Allies’ all-too-protective senses.

That conversation with America flew by like a breeze. Since the morning after that evening, they exchanged the usual conversations with no limitations as if France never chose Britain over him. Honestly, the Poodle is relieved by this—but there’s a tiny part deep inside of his head that wanted it to be remembered, and begged for even just a little ‘sorry’ partnered with a lame excuse.

It’s been a year, and Britain kept true to his promise.

Though, he wasn’t with Russia as France would’ve thought, yet he had Winter Clothes prepared for the harsh winter that is Toronto outside. Right as the door slammed shut, Britain threw the thick jacket on the sat down France. “Dress up, we’re going to Quebec.”

“Quebec? That doesn’t sound anywhere near Vichy, penses-tu?” France raised his eyebrows at the English nation as he wriggled to get inside the piece of garment. “What a brilliant guess. In fact, I think it must be an ocean away,” Britain gave an equally sarcastic reply, combined with a roll of his Jade eyes.

“Why is that?” France dusted the jacket off, before setting his gaze on the other country. “We have to discuss something with America,” Britain looked like he hesitated, “It’s concerning the West of your homeland, so you better move without any more questions, otherwise I deem you a filthy Totalitarian.”

“Bien, Bien! Mon Dieu, learn to wait sometimes, Angleterre.”  
\---

It took seven hours to get from Toronto to Quebec. By the time they arrived, France was overjoyed to finally be anywhere but out in the snow. "Welcome, France," The Moose meekly greeted, politely helping the other nation take his jacket off, "And you too, Mister Britain."

"Just Britain, Canada." The English nation returned a patient reply. Canada smiled confidently, "Of course. America's already waiting in the meeting room; what snacks do you prefer?"

France nodded at Britain, a sign that he's prepared, before turning to the Canadian, "Anything is fine, mon fils. Do not overwork yourself." Canada smiles and bowed, then escorted the two countries to the meeting room and excused himself.

When they entered the broad high-ceiling room, they grimaced at the sight of America grinning gleefully at the two after having just wolfed down a platter of what looks to be Poutine, with a bottle of Whiskey and shot glasses alongside. "Fries, cheese and Gravy here in Canada, folks," He sighed happily, "It's very American; Canada's got some priorities."

Britain grabbed the opened Whiskey and downed at least half of the melancholic bottle effortlessly, "You are the reason why I drink—you bloody disappointment."

France flinched, "Whiskey? And I thought you had some class, Angleterre."

"I just want to get steamed. Besides, Wine is for pretentious Alcoholics!" Britain glared at the French as he swiveled the alcoholic beverage around. France raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Tell that to China."

America threw his head back and groaned in complaint, "Let's just start the freakin' meeting!"

"Oh, right." Britain cleared his throat, pouring a shot and sliding it to France from across the table.

The Poodle flinched, but downed it nonetheless. Britain's offer obviously means that he'll need to take a shot.

When he gazed back at the British Oriole, he looked uncomfortable--almost like he's hesitating. France sent a questioning stare then Britain and America shared a look before the English started to talk, "France, well...The Germans have control over North Africa and West of your Homeland."

"Oui, I'm very aware. There's no need to remind me every now and then." 

America, surprisingly, started to contemplatively take small bites of the gravy-dipped fries as France decided to finish the cheese curds that the American put to the side.

"Actually, I don't think it's a good idea." America glanced at Britain. "What? What isn't a good idea?" The British Oriole turned his gaze to the confused French and reluctantly spoke.

“France, Vichy isn’t you.” He cleared his throat, “I mean, legitimately all of France is under Germany, Vichy is the only free zone but as you might’ve felt, it’s still chaotic in that place—however, it isn’t the government you should serve.”

France’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?” Britain sighed, grabbing an envelope of contracts and placing them on the table for France to feast his eyes on.

“I generously offered my London for the people who continued to stay loyal to you to stay in. ‘Free France’, they called themselves; led by Charles de Gaulle. They are currently in the Brazzaville in Congo, but you can still feel them,” He said, “You have to trust me; Vichy France is something you would not like to call your own men.”

Free France is the only group to stay loyal to him? What does that even mean about Vichy? Is it only a vulnerable set of people who’d sacrifice everything to the Germans out of fear, or are they Nazi sympathizers, or worse?

When America entered the conversation, his claws were finally away from the Poutine he was previously binging, “That’s not exactly what we started this meeting for. While we truly want to inform you about that, it’s kind of part of why we want to do this.”

“Do what?”

“A sacrifice, if you will.”

Britain smacked the back of America’s head, “Don’t call it that, you wanker! You’re making it worse!” He then went back to speaking to France, “Look...We figured that the only way we may liberate you is by getting the Germans out of most of your land, and maybe then perhaps, you and Free France could finally return there.”

Seeing as it’s a good time to do so, France pours himself a shot, before offering a cheer, “And what method do you suggest?”

This was when the real pause took place.

“France, we may have to launch an amphibious invasion of Normandy,” Hearing this, France choked on his Whiskey, but Britain continued, “We’ll call it Operation Neptune, and we plan to do it next year, if hopefully, Operation Overlord would be successful.”

France sneezed and then waved a hand to prompt Britain to continue, “We’ll also sign Military Deceptions, including Operation Bodyguard and Operation Fortitude. They’ll expect Neptune to launch on a different date, and instead prepare for a fake attack in Norway.” Britain poured a shot, “We’d really appreciate your help, France.”

Another pause happened, but it was shorter, as that last statement was what pushed France to his decision.

“I allow you to launch it.”

America leaned on the table, a face of warning painted on his face, “You heard correctly, right? It’s on Normandy, and I swear it’s going to hurt really badly...” He continued, “Because of that, we’re going to keep you in a safer bunker, since we already have Free France to take your place.”

“Non, you got my intentions wrong,” France’s eyes sharpened, and considering he didn’t have a real leader for his personality, the other two countries didn’t know what it meant, “I want to fight. After Vichy, I’d like to move to London to converse with this ‘Free France’, escort me if you have to, but I won’t accept a ‘No’ in this.”

And even before America could protest, Britain raised a stopping hand, and gave a confident gaze and a motivating beam at the French, “Then if you will.”

France grinned, and raised a glass to liberation; meaning; and fraternity, “Long Live the Fighting France!”

The other two nations smiled, and raised a shot for themselves.

“Long Live the Brotherhood!”

\---

 

Though he'd never admit it, America dreaded to reach the day that France would have to depart to Vichy with Britain and Russia of all people. What's worse is it wasn't just with France's consent, but his own decision.

The next week, Canada welcomed himself into the room France and the others were staying on—he was wearing a face that could only be defined as terrified and anxious, "R-Russia's here. Please make him stop banging; he's going to break down the door!"

Before France and Britain could even process the sentence, America was already dashing through the halls. The look on Canada's face worsened as if it was even possible, and urged the other two to run after the American.

When they've reached the end of the hallway, America and Russia were already deep in an argument, colorful curses thrown left and right in their own, very original language. "Alright, quiet down you uncontrollable children!" Britain entered between them, arms pushing the two nations away from each other.

"Well, this Мудак of a Capitalist started it!" Russia argued, shoving a finger to America's chest, "I wouldn't have run all the way here to entertain you if you didn't terrify my brother to death!"

Russia grinned with a sharp glint in his eyes, "And since when did you care about Canada?"

America gasped in complete shock, and was about to make another offended comment when Britain stopped him. "Stop being immature, the two of you,” He glared then calmly nodded at Russia, "Is transportation prepared?"

"да , we’re ready to leave now, if you want." 

When France glanced at America, he found the Eagle almost sulking, but kept a stance that screamed calm and collected. France decided to place his only hand on the taller nation's shoulder and smiled softly, "After Vichy...I'll be seeing you in London, right?"

"Uhm, yeah! Sure, dude." America grinned genuinely, although it wasn't as bright as his signature smile.

He turned to Canada next, who've been quiet the entire ordeal, and gave him a one-arm hug, although it was warm, "Don't let those Nazis get to you, Mon Cher."

"Au Revoir, France," Canada returned the embrace.

As he thought that it was enough, France turned his hard gaze back at Britain and Russia, then nodded, "We can leave now."

\---

The trip to Vichy is nowhere near easy. In fact, they got in between so many wars that it must be impossible to have no one see them. After all, they stand out in a crowd of people—all of them living countries are the only human-like animals in a crowd of mortal men.

So of course, someone would've noticed a set of non-attack planes, or a trio of walking Animals covered in a disguise trying to pass through warzones.

Nonetheless, it was a miracle to even reach the bunker without a scratch. By the time they did, the first thing all three of them did was collapse on the mats placed on the cold floor. France found his bunker way back in Toronto way more comfortable, it was better than being stranded on an island with the sun glaring down at you to constantly remind you of your mistakes.

To be fair, being in a gorgeous island does sound ideal, what with the endless pressure of each moment, a vacation would be nice. However, ‘relax’ is not a word in a Country’s work manual.

It’s always to serve and to serve and to serve.

Every country at some point might’ve wanted to just be a mortal for once, since they could live for something they actually want to live for. They don’t suddenly spring into like and have an uncontrollable urge to protect a piece of land which they could feel the pain of.

“We’ll move again when the Sun rises, straight to Vichy,” Britain had said that night, “And tomorrow, I’ll regret escorting you here.”

When France tried to question that statement, both Britain and Russia were already deep asleep from exhaustion. On the contrary, France had little to no sleep that evening—besides, it wasn’t like he was tired, and he already had the luxury of sleeping for two entire years.

As soon as Dawn arrived, the trio of nations was already on their way to the Marshal’s humble abode. The Bunker isn’t too far, considering that USSR prepared it somewhere just around the edges of Vichy. The entire journey, Britain had been acting distant and seemed to literally be hiding something; he’s always checking his clothing for items every now and then, while Russia resorted to his usual quiet mutters; this left France to his own terrifying thoughts.

Well, on the bright side, the journey didn’t last too long. Just an hour or two and they were finally standing in front of South France’s very own Château de Rastignac.

They pulled their hoods and disguises lower to their faces and skin. Showing their identity is much more terrifying—when mortals think the living countries are to fear, it should be the government they are scared of.

Everyone’s superior over the Countries.

When alarmed people from the inside peeked out to check who could be bothering the Marshal so early in the morning, it was only France who lifted his face with a glare that screams authority—and well enough, they obliged without a word, moving to the sides to let the three of them in while others rushed to tell the Marshal about the important arrival.

And immediately, another human bows in front of France with a message, “Le Maréchal a demandé à vous voir dans son bureau.”

France nods, “Très bien, conduis-nous là-bas.” The human obliges and starts to walk down back where he came from, with three nations following right after. Frankly, neither Britain nor Russia understood the conversation completely—but as long as it works, they’ll go along with it.

Now, France wasn’t sure what or who he was expecting but he was overjoyed and relieved to find out it was merely Philippe Pétain; the person to have kept the Germans at bay during the Verdun attack way back in the Great War.

That must mean he’s to be trusted, then, right?

France quickly bows, followed by the two other nations behind him, “Monsieur Pétain, c’est un honneur!” 

“No need for formalities, France. We’re glad to have you back.” From a few steps away, Britain rolled his eyes but neither France nor the Marshal noticed. Russia, on the other hand, murmured what could only be visualized as a bunch of words that could be translated into ‘Don’t do that’.

Philippe offered a seat to the French Poodle, yet completely ignored the other two countries—though, only Britain and Russia have an idea why. It’s part of the reason why Britain never wanted to send France alone to Vichy in the first place; even if Russia himself is here, it feels dangerous just being in this state.

The gun under his coat is his only hope of safety.

“Ever since the fall, we’ve needed nothing but your unlimited Guidance. Even so without you, we struggled to bring life to this government under the Axis Powers.”

Hold on.

What did he mean by—?

“We built a Fascist government we called the Vichy Regime with the help of Germany, who helped us while you weren’t present to support your men,” He was seemingly oblivious to France’s horrified expression, “That said, there’s no need for these Allied vermins to accompany you here. If you will, please ask them to scram.”

Apparently, that was immediately the last straw for the ill-tempered Russia, who had completely abandoned his cover and stepped accusingly to Philippe, “Послушай, you self-righteous and Nazism-eating Dogs!” He argued without a second thought, “We are above vermins, unlike you _чертовски трусы— _as soon as your supposed beloved Country is dead, you did nothing but cower under the shelter of the Devil! How about this? Go call us vermins to Hitler as he is losing all wars, then _ты можешь трахать себя!” _____

_____“Moreau, si vous le pouvez,” _Three guards moved and restrained the Soviet Bear, and France could only watch in honest confusion at the commotion occurring and begged Britain with his eyes to explain, yet he only sighed and turned his head away.__ _ _ _ _

______“As I was saying, getting to this point was not easy,” He offered his hand to be shaken, “We’d love to have you back in our state.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______France eyed the inviting palm; and he continued to remind himself what Francia told him, that nothing ever matters except his people—not family, not friends, not yourself, not..._ _ _ _ _ _

______But we all fall for something._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“You know what? Non, I’m not going to join, désolé pas désolé.” _Philippe’s mouth opened, almost in shock, then closed it as soon as it had been unsealed, _“Excuse me? Est-ce que tu me défies?” ______ _ _ _ _ _

__________France glared; he didn’t dare just say that. “Oui, indeed I am. I’d rather not be defined by this arrogant state and submit to another set of government once again.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As he finishes that sentence, he heard the clicking of a gun behind him, and turned to a collected Britain holding the weapon of the noise then he spoke in his own, intimidating tone, “And I’m here to make sure none of you bloody cock-ups pull some trick on us.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The guards removed their hold on Russia, and opened the doors out of the room almost humbly the moment Britain pulled out a simple pistol. France wanted to assume that they’re expecting Russia to be holding something worse, and he himself doesn’t know if the Slav even is hiding a weapon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Philippe grabbed his own revolver bravely, and sent an equally terrifying glower and a low voice, “Beloved France, when you return, I don’t want any of them in my sight again.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France willingly backs out of the room, refusing to remove his eyes off his new enemy, “Then I won’t be returning! You lose your privilege as my people, no matter how much it hurts me—because nothing else is as agonizing as to know that this is the kind of men that reflects me. And if any of you attempts to burn this land to ashes, I will return and I refuse to cease even when I once did. Vive La Resistance, vous enculés décevants!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________All his life, he was taught to believe that each time you dare decline your nation, you’re ultimately unworthy of a Country’s immortality as you cannot even hold up to the responsibility. So, why now, does he not feel that way?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________At least being a nation can give you a personal ship, as long as your country isn’t filled with invaders. With just luck on their side, London isn’t as far as Quebec is, and it wasn’t like Britain was under Axis control._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But it still wasn’t safe, with the attacks coming from everywhere—land, water, and air._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________While they can get extremely tired, sleep for nations weren’t necessary. Their “creator” obviously thought they’d be able to resist the urge to just lie down and rest, but even so, they still need to fulfill the duties one country faces without ever looking at the time. For them, time is all but a concept._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________So it’s either no schedule or no sleep at all was in that ship. A few humans attended to the needs of operating the boat, so France, Britain and Russia could only plan, pay attention to the future, and be alert for any possible attacks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________An ashtray sat on top of the mahogany wood of the table, while the bottles of 20 year old stored alcohol completed the depressing picture. As France continued to stare at it, the more comprehensive he felt—though he didn’t mind so much, he realized that he’s overthinking everything again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His head is like a photographer’s camera, always seeing beauty and devastation in everything; but maybe that’s just about how every country’s head works. Especially an individual who’ve killed an entire nation, created mass murder, lost loved ones, and merely needed the time to appreciate the works of a creator, whether they believe it to be a God or Science._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Then a cigar taps on the edge of the tray, and France’s eyes followed as it was raised up back into Britain’s beak. He flinched at the realization that he isn’t any better than an alcoholic who couldn’t survive without a bottle of Gin a day, but when you’re living a nation’s life, who could?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“How does it feel?” Britain asked after nearly hours of not a single word exchanged, so it shouldn’t be questioned why France jumped at his voice. “Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow as the Oriole puffed smokes upon smokes of turmoil._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What do you feel, now that you’ve abandoned your country?” A clearer question was thrown out of the blue, but it brought out the realization that, he never actually really cared to think about his answer ever since they departed from Vichy to London._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“C’est dur,” He began, “But...I feel horrible, scared, and...” Suddenly, he pauses and raises his head, a look of realization on his face and suddenly the Britain’s tired yet smiling face made sense, “I feel free.”  
So, when they arrived in London, France felt at home. He’s under the protection of the people he trusted, even if they fought him for a hundred years; even if they never had direct exchange of security; even if it’s someone he wanted to corrupt once; even if...It felt like they were faking it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________After enduring the harsh truth of reality and history, it’s so much better to live in a place of pure joy even if it’s made only from imagination._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Back on a more related subject, London was much more beautiful than France forced himself to believe, but maybe it’s mostly because it’s like exploring the core of Britain and what he truly is like. As soon as they stepped foot onto the capital, Russia had already bid farewell and left to go to his ‘family’ back in the East._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Here, love, is the heart of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland,” Britain obnoxiously waves an arm around, showing off what his nation has got to offer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France snorts, “No heart of UK can defeat the City of Love, chéri. Ask anyone, Paris is standing strong even through the toughest of bombings.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well, don’t remind me of how prone your capital is to disaster,” The British angrily scoffs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Who knew he’d be back in London?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________When he was younger, he’d sworn to never enter Britain’s capital as an ally, yet here he was. To be fair, it’s for the chance of fixing another friendship broken; this time, America thought it’s worth repairing, and it wasn’t just because France would be useful militarily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As he established a new friendship, he realized how important they were. He witnessed China, one of the most ancient and still one of the strongest nations alive, show his vulnerable side—because he feels everything the Japanese are doing to his people._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Though, not literally, but every nation feels the stab of trauma that their people are forced to indulge._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It hurts really badly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Anyway, when America saw the familiar abhorrent crown and the mop of Curly Brown Locks, he felt an involuntary smile form on his face, before silently moving his way to the two nations._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Though, from afar, the real beam on his face began to fade when he watched the two go from bickering to harmless laughter. It was that pure joy in their faces that almost drove America away—he felt afraid of him wiping off the happiness of the moment with his annoying and intolerable personality._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Just when he wanted to back away, France turned his head at his direction, the French’s face turned into one of glee as he waved a hand to get America to notice and approach them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Amérique! How convenient to have just found you so easily,” France smiled as America made his way to the two, and the same contagious happy expression found its way on the American’s face as well, “Well I did get a harsh but informing letter from USSR and Russia.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________No, he did not._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Britain gave him a suspicious look, “Russia just left, that’s got to be some pretty quick letter sender.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________America moves in between the two nations, wrapping his arms so that they’re placed on their shoulders like armrests, “Those two are so close they could hear each other telepathically, so don’t question it,” He laughed, “Anyway, where’s the next stop, boys?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Wherever Gaulle is,” Britain said, eyes roaming around the city in search for anyone from the Free France._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________From that point forward, The Brit was in front of the group and led them to who knows where. It was at one stop when they suddenly turned a corner into what looks like a Park. However, it didn’t look as lively as what America remembers to be a square._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Instead, it seems like the gleeful color of green did nothing to the monochrome atmosphere of the depressing people that sat around the park._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The things War do to people._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But as soon as they raised their heads to see the three countries, they immediately stood up, some kneeling and a few had their chests out and a confident salute by their heads. America heard a small gasp, and turned his head to France, who seemed to be affected by something._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The same reaction was pasted on the saluting people, and they as well, immediately kneeled on one knee—when they spoke in a familiar language, America understood the situation. “Notre France bien-aimée; vous êtes vivant et bien,” One of them spoke, and France replied._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oui, en effet je suis,” He then changed the dialect, “Do you speak English?” His eyes wander to Britain and America for a moment before one of the French Rebels stuttered a response, “A little, M-Monsieur.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France nodded, “Good, then you can bring me to Gaulle, je m'attends.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The night escalated into one filled with wine and Gin bottles, as France stated that he wanted a night to enjoy before the real storm sets in. It’s one of many things America admired about him especially in the 18th century—France had beliefs, and he isn’t afraid to continue fighting for it and wouldn’t take a rejection for an answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________America turned his head when he heard grumbled whispers between some of the Rebels and Britain, then observed with sharp eyes as the English reluctantly called France’s name, and the other nation switched his attention with one eyebrow raised._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well, what is it?” France asked when Britain doesn’t answer for a good ten seconds. “I—er, look, mate, these frogs forced me to sew something for your head damage.” He rummaged inside his clothes, where his bag is, apparently, before pulling a Lapis Blue Beret with a Red Ribbon styled on its side, “This Beret nonsense can help hide it, I guess.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________At first, France’s face was one of ridicule and nonchalance, “Sorry, mon ami, but I’m not that easily to prank.” Britain suddenly turned red, and it might be both from embarrassment and anger, “What—a prank? I worked all of my free time in 4 years to make this in its best form! Are you saying all this was a bloody accident?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________That shut the confused France up for some good time, before he turned his head around the room and back to Britain’s gift, “This...This is legitimate?” the Oriole shoved it to the other’s chest, “Don’t make me say more, you brat! Here, take it and wear it. It should be enough proof!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France laughed at the stubbornness of the other as he placed the beret on his Gingerbread Brown mane, “Not bad, Angleterre. I appreciate some good Englishman’s efforts.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________When America feels down, he always tries to feel in the atmosphere with his unnecessary comments._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Did you make me anything, Dad?” America asked teasingly with a face of fake innocence, “I would’ve appreciated the classic cowboy hat.” He moved a finger to his head, as if he’s using the muzzle of a gun to lift a hat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As Britain scoffed and responded with a fun and equally sarcastic response, the night went on. The joy continued until everyone had decided they had enough and should move to sleep, and as America was about to follow, France silently grabs his wrist and it was enough signal for him to stay for a little while longer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Britain lingered for a bit, glancing suspiciously at the two, but alas left without malice or a question._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Is something been bothering you, Frenchie?” He took the seat beside the said nation and observed the hesitant expression on his face. France finally decided to speak, “You’re the one I trust as the first one to know this, so please take it seriously.” America smiled, “Yeah, of course. Anything I can take, bring it on.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France’s eyes turned to one corner of the room looking quite unsettled, “My shadow’s back.” “Your shadow?—Wait, Oh, Jesus.” An anxious look formed on America’s face, “But what could’ve triggered it?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It’s Vichy, go figure. Well, I noticed he still had both of his arms and no sign of injury and with a much different uniform, so he must be some government which Germany has less control of.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________America bit the bottom of his (beak?) in thought and sighed, trying to calmly get a hold on the situation, “So that means...Even if your shadow of Vichy isn’t physical, their government itself is a threat,” He said, “Then they must be fighting with the Axis in the war.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The other nervously twists the ribbon of his new beret, his eyes continuing to dart from corner to corner of the room, “Exactly. My shadow is literally just me if I became one with the Fascist Government,” France’s eyes softened, “It’s like...I had a choice. So I chose to be free as part of the Resistance.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________There was a small silence in the room, and it only shattered when America cleared his throat, “Dude, if it matters, you’re the one country I know of that’s most dedicated to their beliefs,” He paused, “And if the Free France is what you believe in, then I know you’ll protect it with whatever you have left.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________This is it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They’ve reached Caen, and claiming it back should be enough to be considered an Allied victory._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Operation Neptune had started days ago and only now will he make his objective, and France had sworn to himself that he’ll keep fighting through the pain of his land being assaulted by his own allies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His role would be to raise the flag over the Third Reich. When Charles de Gaulle asked why, France explained that the flag reigning over the land symbolizes that he’ll have power over it again. If the flag’s up for at least more than enough time, he’d be able to regenerate back and actually fight. Maybe, if they were lucky, even apply a bigger damage to Germany, since they’re expecting the attack to be on Norway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Whatever happens, raise the flag. America and I will watch your back at all times,” Britain had told him, “I believe in you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Those words rung inside his head as the planes landed and the troops found trenches and whatever can prevent them from the inevitable moment of death. And suddenly, France is faced with the thoughts in his head when it’s during war._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Yet, this time, he doesn’t let it get to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He had nothing but a pistol and his dedication, and for once he’s glad that running away had become his specialty. All he had to do was climb that tower and raise the flag, and then make the Germans retreat, right?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________No. He witnessed the two-headed Germany shoot from the skies, wings open as he’d only been from flight. He’s got all his weapons ready, and it’s obvious that he felt his men dying from somewhere that’s totally not Norway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France watched the end of his gun point directly at his head as he felt every part of his body tense and begged to run faster._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But it was all gone when America’s bullets move at Germany’s direction, and soon the Eagle was tackling the German to the ground, his gun tied to his back and claws struggling to keep the assault rifle piercing the air. For a flash of a second, America grinned at him then moved back to fighting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Even if he felt so relieved, everything hurt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His heart beats with every stab of agony in each bullet shot, whether it was the Allies, the tanks, or the Axis. He felt every single pain of the Revolution and he only wished to close his eyes, but he knows that War does allow not a single blink._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Then he turned his head, and he saw that hallucination he wished to never see in this place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Vichy stood there, grinning maliciously as the wind of terror blows through his coat, and then he strongly pointed his arm to a direction, where a new batch of men of the same uniform ran to with weapons ready in their hands. Even if no one but France can see him, it’s almost as if he’s leading the regime._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________...Vichy has arrived._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Va te faire foutre!” France screamed at nothing, but every emotion he kept in his chest popped out of him and it was all directed at the constant reminder of the country he’s failed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He can’t let anything get to him, he has to remember that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Soon, he was climbing the tower, and he was so close to reaching it, he just had to raise that fallen French flag and—_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Suddenly, there was a shoot of pain through his stomach. Pain that cannot be compared to simply his men being killed, it was his own wound._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He caught the look of regret on America’s face as blood poured from France’s new injury. Germany, seeing as France had not fallen as easily as last time, screamed at a few from his troops in German, “Lass sie nicht die französische Flagge hissen!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Geh, bewege dich!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________No, he can’t die just yet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France swiftly placed his hand on the ropes and pulled. Even with the troops ascending to the tower with him and the multiple shots being thrown at his bleeding body, he struggled and struggled to raise his most beloved flag—_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The blue for the feeling of Freedom that his friends taught him to enjoy, the White for the Equality that not even Nations can cherish, and the Red for the brotherhood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As the red flows out from the many holes in France’s body, he decided to fall for the brotherhood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________And gradually but surely, he’s pulling the ropes with two arms. He feels no wound in his body anymore, like they were involuntarily sewn back together._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As he looked down, he witnessed the hallucination of Vichy look up in terror, mouth open as if he wants to scream, before he fades into nothing but air._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Vichy had lost his power._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France turned around to face the approaching German troops, two arms on each side as the bullet from his pistol shot through the first Nazi’s head, for the sole purpose of grabbing the rifle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Before the shoots of the troops could reach him, he immediately jumped off the building and searched for the American hopefully still holding the German down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________However, he was met with the sight of Germany on top of America, his claws wrapped around the Eagle’s neck. Without a second rational thought, France shoots through Germany’s chest, and it was enough to make him fall off America coughing out, even if the wound would regenerate.  
As Germany attempted to snatch his assault rifle back, all three nations turned their heads to watch Britain, shoot off what France would remember to be Dollmann, one of the Nazi Commanders. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________While he was distracted, France knocked Germany’s rifle to America, and pointed his own directly against one of his heads. “You’re not the same Germany I remember,” France muttered yet loud enough for the other to hear, “What did Hitler do to you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He saw the hesitation move in Hitler’s Dark Pupils, before he shouted a “Rückzug!” and flew back into the sky, away from Caen along with thousands of men after, including the men from Vichy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Neither America nor Britain found the will to fly after, as they can only grin and rejoice with their troops and Free France as France felt his cheeks get wetter at the sight of his flag waving over all. He finally had the rights over this land again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________This time, he’ll serve it right._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France’s wish at that moment was that Louis, Marie, and Francia is finally proud of him, from up above._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He dropped his shovel, causing another wave of dust to waft through the air the three nations are breathing in._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Earlier that day, they’ve just finished delivering their fallen soldiers back to their own sobbing families, giving them each a prayer and a symbolic salute for each of their bravery._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The rest of the bodies were left with no one to take them—perhaps their families were already gone as well, or they were Nazi bodies that Germany refused to take back. Either way, the three buried all of them; each of their burials received a cross as a token for their bravery._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The scene hurt for France, and perhaps it wasn’t just the fact that some of these men were people he knew and interacted with before the Operation—but maybe it’s the guilt of living. These men deserved more than he did, and yet here he stood with Immortality right in his arms when once, he killed entire empires and murdered thousands just to attempt to make Bonaparte proud._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Maybe, he should’ve just permanently died from the hundreds of shots he took, back when he was raising the flag._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You did great back there.” America suddenly spoke, placing a strong claw on France’s back. The French could only smile in return._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________That night, they tiredly returned to an unsuspecting house where Canada temporarily resides in to treat injured D-Day soldiers. The first thing Canada did was ask if France had any injuries he could attend to, but France merely grinned and said, “I only need you to remove the bandages on my head.” The Moose returned his beam and happily hugged him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The Allies are finally complete._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________There was a sudden sharp noise across the room, and everyone turned their heads to Britain tapping a stored bottle of wine to grab their attention. When everyone was listening, he lifted the purple liquor, “I’d like to make a toast to France! Of course, for bringing their land back into the right hands, on this day, August 25; may it be remembered throughout history.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________France laughed humbly, and graciously responded, “It wouldn’t have been a success without all of your help, and of course with special thanks to De Gaulle,” He’s the one to raise the wine this time, “A toast to everyone.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I made sure to save your well-deserved wine for this,” America said, “So I and my man Britain over here buried that bottle at some point. It’s been some years and I don’t even remember exactly when we did that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The Poodle swirled the beverage around, studying as it flowed in waves—and he found himself overthinking again. But instead of the dreadful thoughts, his mind spoke about optimism and pride, he felt like he had the right to be free, like he finally had control and honor. Finally, he looked at America, “I don’t think it’s the date that matters—what’s important is it happened.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You’re right for once,” Britain re-enters the conversation, “Otherwise, this night would be nothing but boring. The best part is you’ll finally shut your whining gear about drinking anything but grape juice.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\---  
____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________His head was under water, yet he felt so calm as if he wasn’t drowning. His figure seemed to resemble one of an Ophelia painting, but it can’t be peaceful._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You don’t deserve this serenity._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Everyone you ever loved shall laugh as you cough and scream when the salty water fill your insides and replace your bloodstream. No one will cry with you, or for you; yet you accept it, like you accepted that you failed everything you wanted to live for._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You’re a failure.  
Failure, Failure, Failure—_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Yīnghuā, Yīnghuā.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________And all of a sudden, he’s somewhere. The vulnerable Poodle is not sure exactly where, but it’s white and everything’s white. His head is telling him that it’s red, but it’s logically white. Yes, it is white, stop being so stupid. It’s the color of your monarchy, remember?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Zài tiányě, shānmài hé cūnzhuāng,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________The voice is crying, but how would you know? How would you know what emotions are like?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________It cries._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Yīwàngwújì...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________China...He cries. How unfortunate, no one can help him now. Besides, China’s just an Asian, why should a European like you care? It’s not like you’re directly affected. Better not to get involved, like America said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________It was just the two of them, and then suddenly they were three. “Kasumi ka kumo ka,” China sobbed louder, screaming nonsense as the newcomer yielded his glinting beautiful bayonet in his hands, “asahi no niou.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________What a beautiful song._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Sakura, Sakura,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________It’s so innocent, it kills me._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Mini yukan.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________It kills me. It kills me. It kills me._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________I feel the virginity of a nation being ripped apart, piece by piece, until it is nonexistent._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________The loss of innocence made China’s head fall of, but his neck bloomed into such a beautiful withering rose. Japan sure does enjoy a gorgeous sight; look at him as he traced his fingers over his blade in thirst._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________He enjoys true art! Oh, what else can suffice this unquenchable hunger in his stomach?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Such sick perverse is forgivable, why it’s only normal. So why are you screaming? It’s only an Asian after all; they’re across the globe so you don’t have to worry about YOUR head falling off again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Haha, HAHAHAHAHA_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You’re laughing so hard that tears are falling down your cheeks! I am quite the joker, aren’t I? It’s almost as funny as your empire, you chatte. Why are you still alive when I could just take over and do what you need to do? You get to rest, and I work; it’s a win/win!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________If Francia saw you now..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________The next second, he was facing a neat study table, filled with organized papers and a few miniature statues, but what’s most interesting is a two-headed bird, with his hands tightly intertwined together for his beak to rest on. The Nazi flag pridefully hung on the white background._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Do you know why you’re here?” Despite the flag behind him, his eyes are soft yet narrow. However, it is far from being Hitler’s eyes—this is Germany._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You shook your head ‘no’._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“I don’t know why I’m still here, either.” His voice cracked, “I don’t want to be. What have you done? That verdammt treaty...I followed it, so why do I have to ficken watch my people die in my own hands?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________But I followed the treaty._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________I did everything you wanted, even as my economy is falling. All I asked was for you to stay neutral, but you fought anyway—what, because of Britain? I did everything, so why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________WHY?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________WHY? WHY? WHY?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________YOU’RE SO SELFISH. THOSE TEARS ARE NOT GOING TO HELP HIM, YOU IDIOT. THIS IS WHY EVERYONE IS TIRED OF YOU, YOU’RE SO REPLEACABLE. SO WHY NOT MAKE IT QUICK, AND LET ME REPLACE YOU?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________LET ME, COME ON._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________GERMANY OPENED A DRAWER, AND FROM IT, HE PULLED OUT A GUN. HE COCKED IT AND IGNORED YOUR PATHETIC PLEAS, “Entschuldigung, Papa und Preußen,” HE RAISED IT SO THAT IT WOULD PASS THROUGH BOTH OF HIS HEA—_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“What do you think, France?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Huh?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Suddenly, nothing’s white. It’s just...It’s just the palace in Versailles, with the glass walls of the study and all; nothing too alarming._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Haha, well, let me repeat...I’m thinking about legalizing other religions—besides, it’s not like not believing in what we do should mean we mind their business, right?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You should learn to be more decisive, after all—you’re the king._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Oui, I guess you’re correct with that. I’m sorry; I was just never suited to be a king. But I’m stuck here, and I’d rather help those in need if I have to.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Hey, I don’t think you’re dimwitted. You have a different way of thinking! Anyway, I support your proposal, you should absolutely legalize it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“You think so?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Of course!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Thank you...I would’ve expected you to hate me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Me? No, I couldn’t! What gave you such an idea?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“If I didn’t die because I was such a bad king...You wouldn’t have to go through that—the Revolution, I mean. Marie and I are very sorry, my child.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________What? What do you mean revolu—?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________All happiness flew away when there was a white flash, as if there was a lightning—and the next thing, you’re watching Louis and Marie get beheaded from those damned glass windows again—_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You recall every scene, every movement. You looked away that time, but you still felt it. You felt a slash around your neck—and you died so slowly, with blood spraying out of your wound and you couldn’t care less, you could only gradually collapse with the only humans to ever care about you in mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Everything’s black..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Ha, did you really think I’d let you go off so easily?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Now, you’re straddling an oh-so-familiar Oriole, your hands tightly wrapped around his neck, as one of his bruised hands hesitantly held a sword—YOUR sword._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Surrender already,” he coughed in between, “you frog! Bonaparte’s gone, and there is no point in fighting anymore!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Angleterre, please! Please, save me!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You tried to scream out and snatch your hands away from his neck, but that Poodle choking him is not you. That was me and you, when we were together. We conquered so much together! If I can’t replace you, then let us become one again. Let us revive the French Empire, France; I will lead all of us to glory again!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________It was all for Bonaparte..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Don’t you miss him as much as I do?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Britain, that traitor, finally raised the sword he was holding, and cleanly sent the weapon to decapitate you cleanly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Do you remember those times?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Stop!” You screamed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Why should I?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Please, I’ve worked so hard to forget...” You sobbed as we are both placed into a white plane once more, the only colors besides the two of us were our own shadows._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Forget what? Forget ME?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Forget who?! WHO ARE YOU?!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________I am you, but you are not me. I am the part of you that you refused to show, but I am indeed still in you._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________I’ve had many names, but nowadays, you call me Vichy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“What do you want from me? I’ve defeated you, you cannot entirely exist anymore!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Why, I can. That’s why you’re here, Mon chéri. I have brought you here to show you things you cannot see, or refuse to see. This is your flaw, dear petit papillon. But I can show you the sufferings of others—as you clearly LACK empathy out of all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________I want to become one with you again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“We all know how THAT ended.” You glared, but it’s useless, and you have to admit that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“You’re NOT fooling me again! Those times, I had no one...I lost everyone I could ever trust, and that’s the only reason why I was driven to even let you control my body again!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Fooling you? What do you take me for? I am much better than you are, in fact. Actually, to show you how much you can trust me, I’ll tell you a new fact—Germany’s in Luxembourg right now. How do you feel about that? And now, you’re just sleeping blissfully, and that would’ve continued if I never interfered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Who said I needed your permission?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________We’ll be one again, just wait. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________  
“For Bloody Christ’s sake, you idiot, I swear if you don’t wake up now, I will play my bagpipe and sing about 1814 in Paris—“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________“French Pood, dude, come on! Wake up!”  
_  
“Vichy...?”__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________France felt a smack on his forehead, jerking him away from the blurry aftermath of sleep, “Not Vichy, you wanker! Germany’s up and marching into Luxembourg and it’ll be a matter of time before he reaches your East!” The Poodle immediately sat and looked at the worried faces of all his compatriots around him—Britain, America, Canada, and surprisingly, he saw an all-too-familiar Lynx._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Belgium, when did I ever last see you?” The said nation strongly grabbed France’s hand to raise him up to his feet, her eyes cold and Dutch as ever, “Ik weet het niet, but I saw myself at your service once again, Frankrijk.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Hey!” Britain angrily called, “Less chit chat! We’ve got to move, our troops—YOUR troops are there! Don’t want to lose more in another Snowstorm again, now, do you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________It had been half a year since D-Day, and even if France had joined in helping some other wars (physically or militarily), he felt nervous about entering another one. He had both arms now, and thanks to the heavens for that; at least he can finally hold whatever gun he wants. However, it’d be a lie if he said that he had pulled himself together already. After all, he’s still plagued with nightmares of not just Vichy, and they’re obviously mostly because of guilt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He wished he could visit China right now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“What’s up, French Onion?” America inquired sometime during the ‘road trip’ to Luxembourg, obviously noticing the frequent look of remorse on France’s face. “I don’t know. How’s the Soviets and China?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________While the Soviets are obviously doing fine alone (Battle of Moscow is enough proof), America grimaced at China’s name. If he were to be honest, he isn’t sure what worse state China could be in if he and USSR weren’t helping him at all—he’s still himself, thankfully, but there are obvious changes to his mannerisms and habits. After all, “Europe first”, he hated the taste of it on his tongue._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________China’s...Just not okay._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________America sighed and masked it with a grin, “Pfft, obviously! No Japanese is safe when I’m in, Bro, trust me! China’s gonna be alright.” France’s head lowered, eyebrows still contorted in worry, “If you say so.” Britain, from somewhere in front of them in the truck, looked over his shoulder in annoyance, “What did you say to make the Yankee scream of Rainbows, Freedom and utter arrogance?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The poodle laughed, “Just checking in on the rest of the Allies. There is no need to whine, Angleterre.” Britain mockingly makes an obviously sarcastic gasp of offense, “Why, you had me miffed! So much that I think I might go grab my rifle and shoot myself.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Even with the brightness that his allies gave him—though sarcastic, nonetheless bright—he couldn’t help but think about that nightmare; more specifically, about THAT Germany in his dream. Are his conspiracies really true? If there was the real Germany deep within the country Hitler controls, and that he felt so helpless he would rather shoot himself dead?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________To be fair, France does not know if this is even possible—he’s ALWAYS fighting against his shadow self. Otherwise, he’d just become one with him, partially in control, like how he did in...Well, the 1800s._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He sighed under his breath, “Keep fighting, mon ami.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Same goes for you, Japan._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He’s always so conservative, reserved, and polite. Though it is true that he’s a closeted pervert it’s just so difficult to imagine him doing all those horrible things to anyone, let alone China. After all, even if it was a type of colonization, he really WAS under China’s care._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The old nation had a pretty huge chunk in Japan’s childhood, Japan’s culture is obviously so influenced and when his kingdom exposed his young self to the world, China was the first to acknowledge the Land of the Rising Sun. He’s like a parent to Japan, a thing no nation had the luxury of having._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________But still, this ‘new’ Japan is disgusting, and France can never ever compare him to the kind and quiet raccoon that America introduced to them a long time ago. If this is what Westernization did to his shadow and him—then what good is foreign trade for?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Mon Dieu, how could he realize just now, the horrible things that the Western Countries are doing?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Everyone, get your rifles.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________It was enough words and everyone knew that they’re in, and there was no turning back. They had their uniforms and helmets worn, guns all loaded up and ready. They hear a gunshot from a distance._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________They’re here._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________As soon as the shots could be heard, all five of them began to run without a second thought, fingers on triggers and their mind set on winning this war for their countries._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________France immediately recognized his own troops, along with the already dead corpses of his men lying on the ground. If this wasn’t the normal sight for a nation, he would’ve already vomited._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He narrowed his eyes and spotted a spot in the trenches where a band of Germans seemed to have bonded together, and he took this as an opportunity to bark out at his friend, “America! Point the cannon at that spot!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The said nation gave a salute and directed the orders to his own men, and as soon as the deed has been done, Germany was distracted—France took it as an opportunity to run to his hidden group of snipers and run to the top of the mountains, shouting out orders as the Frenchmen obeyed and moved to their proper spots, “Vous, bougez là; allez, ce n'est pas un exercice!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________After he had that taken care of, his next immediate order of business wasn’t in their trenches. These German snipers are being a real pain, as if the Railway guns weren’t enough. He was already somewhere in Germany’s part of the battle, so there’s no point in hesitating. His rifle hung on his back, and instead, a knife was plunged into one of the snipers’ neck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________France took the now dead Nazi’s gun and lay with his chest on the ground and placed his eye focused in its telescope, hunting for any other long range Nazis on duty. Besides, it takes a sniper to take down a sniper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He was, however, interrupted by the scrunching of footsteps. France swiftly turned around and pointed the rifle at the owner of the noise, but his assailant grabbed and pointed the snout at the sky as the bullet flew off. France, as he had been on his back, used his legs to kick the stomach of his enemy. It was then that he had a good look._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________It was Germany._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The Nazi was obviously affected, but that didn’t get his hands off the sniper rifle—as he pulled on it again, he raised France along with the gun on his feet, and soon they were on a full on fight between who could pull the rifle out of the other’s grips._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“How’s life been treating you, Allemagne?” France said in between angry grunts, a grin of malice on his face. Germany refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, and pushed him over the edge of the cliff, where France’s only hope of being pulled forward is through the gun he refused to let go of._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Gravity was pulling on him, but he still struggled to keep his sweaty paws on the gun and his boots on the very edge of the ground, “Oh Jésus Baise,” He muttered unconsciously as he looked down the heights, then nervously back to Germany, “Ahah, I guess I’ll take that as you’re not doing so well, huh, Mon cher Ami?” He swiftly pulled himself back on his feet and snatched the rifle back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“To be fair, I’d be upset too if I’ve lost multiple wars in a row, Hitler!” The said dictator’s nation apparently thought it was the last straw, and with an angry growl, gave a bone-cracking knee to France’s stomach, and a fist down his back when he bent to hold down his ribs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The satisfying cracks came with a price, as the French dropped the rifle over the cliff as he fell to the ground from the attack. “Verdammt,” Germany grunted, as if the gun was his last hope in winning. ‘Goddamnit, I guess only Angleterre can give clever responses and get away with it,’ France thought as the gun fell with a loud thump and was lost in the battlefield, ‘Merci, Karma.’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________While still on the ground, France took no more time to wallow in the loss of a sniping rifle and grabbed his own forgotten gun on his back, sending a good shoot on Germany’s shoulder. He made a pained squawk—then, knocked France over the cliff with his boots. The said Poodle hung loosely with his fingers struggling to stay on the cliff._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Germany grabbed the rifle France lost a hold of when he fell, and set a bullet to one of France’s hands. “Merde!” France shouted in pain, before he finally let go of the side of the cliff and closed his eyes shut waiting for the spine-cracking ground below._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________However, mid-air, he was snatched into two arms that help him as if his body was flying over the battlefield._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________France opened an eye, then two, and glanced up at his savior, Britain, who only gave him an annoyed glare and a nod back to the field, “Sorry to interrupt your second dramatic fall, you bloody git, but your men need you alive.” He said as he continued to flap his wings—then France noticed that the Oriole Bird isn’t wearing his heavy coat, letting his wings set free._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He rolled his eyes at the overly groomed blouse and dress pants often hidden under the blanket-like cloak. God, how old-school can this guy get? To be fair, this old bird just saved France’s life so he shouldn’t be complaining._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Merci, Limey,” He sarcastically said however with a genuine grin, “Let’s get going, Oui?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________And then, goes another cannon, forcing the duo to catapult to the harsh ground—immediately afterwards was the booming voice of Britain, “Fuckin’ Hell...Surrender at once; you are outnumbered, Nazi Germany! Your ‘Mein Kampf’ tosh is nothing but your sick fantasies now!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________‘Nein nein nein NEIN NEIN!’ A voice, louder, shouted in Germany’s head, so even as he’s bleeding into unconsciousness he had no choice either way; so he fought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________As Britain forcefully pulled France to his legs to run out of a cannon’s way, he realized how all this could happen in a wonderful holiday...December 29._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Let bombs and guns replace the joyful screaming of the Chinese Fireworks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Involuntarily, France suddenly bent in pain, his uninjured hand clutching his ribs, “What the hell happened to you, now?!” Britain shot up to his side, quickly ignoring the shoots being sent in their direction, “Non, I’m fine.” Ironically, France accidentally pushed him gently away with his bleeding, mutilated paw—if you could still call it a paw._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________This, of course, sparked the concern in Britain ever worse, “Bloody Christ! Why, I see you are indeed doing quite brilliant!” He curses under his breath, “Va te faire foutre, Angleterre.” France cursed back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Britain continued to rant as he half-carries France. Once their found the perfect cover, he quickly tore a piece of his blouse with sharp claws, and went to work with one of the Poodle’s hands. “There!” He angrily said after wrapping the unrecognizable paw up, “Now you just have to deal with your ribs and that paw until you can regenerate.” He sighed, “Haven’t you learned anything from one-on-one battles?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________His voice softened at the last sentence. France, too, knew what he was talking about—after Napoleon’s been captured; he refused to give in even if he had obviously been checkmated, and fought Britain recklessly and eventually..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Hey,” Britain called guiltily, “Stop thinking about it, alright? We’ve got some mistakes to wipe off this planet.” He said as he sent his signature glare at the Nazis, then a determined smile at France—the motivational boost worked well, when they immediately ran back to their places in the battlefield._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Canada carefully removed the handmade bandages that wrapped around France’s newly regenerated paw—it had been a week; currently, it’s January 5 now and everything feels better without broken ribs. Unfortunately, still, Germany's Operation Watch on the Rhine is ongoing, meaning they all had been fighting day and night non-stop from Christmas to New Year._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"That's good enough; Merci, Canada." The said country smiles a big beam. Honestly, it's hard to imagine how this huge moose could be such a softie--he's like a teddy bear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________All of them were there--France, Canada, America, Belgium and Britain; however, the only sound in the room is silence. The only exceptions would be the creaking of the seats or shuffling of supplies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Suddenly, the door opened, making everyone turn their heads to the person they've been expecting--USSR. "Hey, Soviet Union, what's up?" America grinned and the bear replied with a glower, "I'm not here to exchange pleasantries, друг. Act mature for once."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"The correct answer is 'the sky'..." France heard America sadly mutter under his breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________As soon as USSR entered the room, he was immediately the center of attention. "I'm glad to see you were all still alive to get my message," He started, "I came here because someone needs to get Poland back. Even if that deer's been a disgrace to the Union, he's still Slavic," Suddenly, there was a soft tone in his voice, “He’s still family.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________A look lingered from Britain to America. If he hadn't taxed the thirteen colonies, would they still have that familiar father-son relationship? No, like the one USSR and the Soviets had—when America could call him Dad and venom wouldn't be dripping down from that nickname. The Oriole's eyes then turned to France; he helped America gain Independence, and in turn, his economy crashed and...Well, to put it kindly, his Monarchy fell._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Well, at least he can say that he's not the only one with regrets. USSR cleared his throat, going back to his usual cold demeanor, "Stalin did not disappoint; like he said, after opening the Invasion in France last June, the tides have turned on our side. So, how is your current war going?" USSR asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"We have the advantages." Belgium proudly but collectively replied._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The tallest nation nodded, "Это хорошо," He said, "On the 12th, I'll be launching an offensive in Poznań, Poland. If we do everything accordingly we'll be able to pressure them into getting out of both east and west and back to Germany."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"What about Far East?" France suddenly said with eyebrows turned in worry, "что?" USSR involuntarily said after a moment of silence, "You know, about Japan and everything. I haven't seen China in a while—is he doing fine? No, actually, how do we take care of Japan?" France continued pushing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________America cleared his throat to grab the attention, "I, uh, got that to be taken care of; China’s handling his Japanese prisoners well. Stop worrying your Frenchead over there, 'right?" France was obviously upset about his concern being dismissed so easily, but he just sighed and turned his gaze away from everyone, "Alright."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The Eagle felt USSR's eyes on him. He can't hide the guilt of the destruction he's making his men build, not when that damn bear knows what he's doing. At first, he was only fighting because Roosevelt said so--then the next; he fought because he had a promise to Philippines. But now, France is guilting him to continue no matter what..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Well, that's not including the time he heard what Japan did to China and Philippines. Goddamnit, he was such a dick to the Carabao back then, why is he acting so heroic and hypocritical about him now? Is it because of McArthur? Is this...what Britain felt?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He turned to the country he called his 'Dad' back then, and found that he had been staring at him suspiciously. America's head moved back to the subject of France—Britain is, so out of the blue, closer to the French now. Perhaps it was karma, but he did deserve it, coming from both Britain and France. Yeah, well, at first, he couldn't help but feel like he had some rivalry about just being France's friend in general. You can't blame him if he missed having France beside him when nowadays he would always take his seat beside Britain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________USSR felt the tense air, similar to when Russia and Ukraine are in the same room, and then out of habit, he decided to fill in the silence with the greater problem that they should be focusing on at the moment, "Будь настороже, no matter what. Once you screw up and you lose the Battle, you’d have to sign a treaty in favor of the Axis, and they'd have the advantage against the Chinese and the Soviets," He paused with a sinister look on everyone's faces._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"Then, it's World Domination."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She stared at the pieces of hair strands that plugged the drain of the sink. They were of a familiar Baby Powder color, but she still refused to recognize them as hers; she had grown her hair too much. That nation had always told her that her hair is gorgeous and cannot be compared with, but he is nothing but a country annexed by Germany now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He was something to her..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________But she can't let him turn her soft again; life had been all about war, not love. Their joined Empire was just asking to crash down, the Divorce was for the greater good—that’s what she kept telling herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She felt none of her hair touching her neck now. That's good; she shouldn't feel anything—not anymore. No Love will be involved this way. Despite this, she let her bangs fall onto her eyes and cover them. No one's seen them, and no one will._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Except him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________There was knocking on the door. "You've taken long enough, Hungary, how hard is it to cut your mane?" Germany said from the other side._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Hungary scoffed, fixed her bangs and opened the bathroom door, "A girl's got to take her time getting pretty."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She grinned when Germany rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. When the bird was out of sight, she fixed her uniform and its medals, a glower on her face. There's no way she can't stop herself from remembering such good times, but it's all over and she's got to move forward._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She took a gloom glance out the window, where the moon shone over all, and the stars had started to lighten the beautiful midnight sky. As Hungary watched the crescent celestial body, there's a part of her wishing he's looking at the same moon as her right now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"Jó éjszakát, Austria."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Far into an abandoned house in Vienna, a nation sat on his piano, hands paused in the correct notes of a melancholic song; beside him is a window, where he could watch his people be terrorized by the Nazis from up above the glass whenever he wanted to. He, too, stared at the beautiful moon, his Blue eyes wishing to have had a longer life with her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"Guten Nacht, Hungary."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Are you sure you’re fine with leaving your troops in the West?” Britain asked France for the third time. “Oui, Angleterre, Germany’s offense is over,” the French replied with a slight annoyed noise, “Now I just want to help liberating Poland. Germany’s shadow has done so many horrible things that must be stopped as soon as we defeat him.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Britain's eyebrows rose at one point in the sentence, "Germany's shadow?" Most of the people in the room turned their heads in curiosity then as France shrugged, "with all the horrible things that merde chatte did, I'd be surprised if it wasn't a shadow," his head moved into a certain angle of thought, "I know his eyes, they're strong and persevering, not those dull dark eyes he has now--they're totally Hitler's."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________To their surprise, a small voice with a Russian accent spoke, "I agree," Belarus, a country from the Soviet Union, spoke up her mind, "I've seen how close Germany is with Poland--they're not the best of friends, but I could've never imagined the German setting up a camp in Oświęcim of all places."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Belarus, a bunny shockingly 3 inches shorter than France, is a Soviet country that's always either following Russia's or USSR's trail, as opposed to her sister, Ukraine, who hates them with all her might. Still, the two sisters get along more than anything._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Going back to the topic at hand, the bunny barely speaks; she's always quiet unless she's spoken to. So it's a surprise to hear her talk without acknowledgement. Perhaps, it's because she had always seen Poland as her brother, as they are culturally tied together._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The Battle of the Bulge had just ended in favor of the Allies, and now most of them are all together in a helicopter--except China, as always. The plane is operated by a Russian soldier, and in it are America, Britain, France, Belgium, USSR, Russia and Belarus. Hopefully, Poland will be with them soon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________On that day, January 27 1945, the Red Army has advanced to Auschwitz to liberate the Jewish prisoners._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"The game is on, my comrades. We've arrived in Auschwitz." As USSR, who was beside the helicopter exit, announced, everyone grabbed their rifles and took a look down the Red Army and their tanks advancing into the godforsaken camp._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________USSR let down the ropes and made way for everyone to move down. As each and every nation climbed off, they give a nod of pursuit at the Union—that is until America’s last and he lifts his fist expectantly, with a grin on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“What is that supposed to be?” USSR glares at the Capitalist. “It’s called a fist bump, you huge dork!” If anyone saw the look on the Soviet Union’s face right now, they’d call him anything but a huge dork. But he still grumpily sighed and returned the gesture, “Just, попасть туда! Stop wasting time!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________America shouted a ‘Wooh!’ in determination, daringly jumping off the ropes and running into the first barracks he sees._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________USSR lingered there in the helicopter, letting out a rare shaky breath. “Сэр?” the human pilot called in a worried tone, but the Soviet Union just narrowed his eyes as he was brought back from his train of thoughts about his family, “Да, я уйду; Спасибо вам за помощь, товарищ.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Это большая честь, сэр.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________And then, he was off the ropes. The band of nations rushed their way into the camp, hoping to find honorable Nazis that for some odd reason, hadn’t escaped yet. However, USSR was searching for a specific nation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Everyone split into groups—Russia and Belarus would assist the departing trucks of prisoners, USSR would be by himself, while the remaining four split into pairs to evacuate the barracks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh mon Merde, Belgique, here!” France called, and Belgium was immediately on his side, “It’s filled with children—who are sick enough to do this?” the French whistled to three armed soldiers to raid the barracks he found. “Obtenez les enfants du côté gauche, la Belgique et moi prendrons soin des autres,” He instructed the soldiers, before turning his head to another batch of children._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Bonjour,” He greeted, trying not to alarm the kids—who seem to all be twins—as much as possible, “We’re here to take you home. We’re gonna need you to come with us, okay?” Most of them nodded and jumped off from their ‘beds’._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Marie, es tut weh...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________France’s ears twitched at the sound of a whisper then saw two scared twins with one of them seemingly unable to move out of their resting place, “What’s wrong?” The siblings didn’t move, almost like they had no idea how to reply. “I don’t think they speak English.” He heard Belgium say to him in a low, hushed voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The usual intimidating look on her face turned into a motherly one, “Tut etwas weh, Schatz?” when she spoke in German, the sisters seem to have finally understood the dialect, “Ich kann meine Beine nicht bewegen!” One of them cried. She can’t move her legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Her lips went tight, and then gave a signal to France to take the other quiet girl and move out, “Ich bringe dich raus, geht es dir gut?” the one with limp legs nodded, “Ja bitte.” Out of the blue, Belgium placed her rifle on her back (which is pretty rare), and carried the girl into her arms. France, still in a small shock, frantically guided the twin out into one of the trucks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Russia gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, and then opened the back of the truck, where malnourished young prisoners were also taken in. Carefully, Belgium and France placed the twins beside each other and prepared to close the truck as it is full, but was interrupted by a familiar small German voice, “Bist du Engel?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Even if he can’t speak so, France could understand any other language, and was taken aback as the girl asked if they were angels. Frankly, countries are never referred to as anything but just chunks of land but with feelings; never have the thought of them being Angels occurred to any country._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Still, France could only smile and shake his head, “We’re just nations, chéri.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Блять, where the hell could he possibly be?!” USSR angrily muttered under his breath, having completely forgetting his original task of liberating Auschwitz once he realized that Poland is nowhere to be found._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________As embarrassed as he is to admit, he ran around the camp until he finally had the thought of giving the Schutzstuffel’s dwelling place a visit. Well, to be fair, it’s not every day you have to search for a nation, but he’s pretty sure Poland’s somewhere in this camp—if not, then he must be in the Death March; in that case, Goddamnit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He wasn’t sure why he would be there, but when USSR ran deeper into the basements of the house, he found Poland in nothing but rags. It must have been taken personally, especially since that fawn’s been known to be extremely insecure about his clothing and his overall looks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________USSR can’t forget that he took part in ruining this young nation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________When Poland saw him, his immediate reaction was a confused yet angry growl. It was obvious that he was having mixed reactions about seeing the Soviet Union here, especially since..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Especially since he signed the pact with Germany—he’s part of the reason why he’s here._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________His face turned from anger into confusion, into happiness, and then into sadness and submit. “Nie ty, znowu,” He said in a small voice, which made USSR sigh and massage his temple hoping to get the headaches out, “It’s fine. I’m here to get you out this time, Польша.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________When the Soviet Union approached, Poland—even while on his knees—backed off further into the abandoned furniture. USSR realized that the Auschwitz Schutzstuffel had already escaped; meaning Poland hadn’t had food at least since the March. “How do I trust you?” he glared, “How do I know you won’t betray and invade me again?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Ah, well, that one hit hard, and honestly, nothing can ever make USSR flinch other than his own goddamn family._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________After a moment with Soviet Union’s eyes tightly shut, he finally opened them and spoke with confidence, “Pan-Slavism, do you still remember?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Poland nodded, “Us Slavic nations are united.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________USSR’s eyes pointed to the floor, “Poland, you’re our family.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, a-am I now?” Poland said in a harsh broken voice that made it obvious that he’s on the verge of tears. Well, USSR almost forgot just how sensitive he can be, “D-Do you know how lonely it felt, when you said I-I’ll, like, be accepted and that just made Lithuania hate—“He takes a deep breath, “I’m not part of your union so I’m not part of your family or w-whatever.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________After then, the only sound to ever fill the room was the loud cracked sobs emitting from Poland. The said small nation found the courage to roll his eyes to take a glance at the now quiet USSR, who seemed to be deep in thought like he always is when his eyebrows are furrowed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Alarmingly, he then sighed and grabbed Poland's wrist—insisting, but gently—then pulled him up to his legs. After a long time of abuse and mostly just not standing at all, Poland limped with an arm around his guts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"I don't really care," USSR said as they advanced the stairs, "All I wanted was to reborn Pan-Slavism—you want to get along with Lithuania, again, right? It won't happen until you understand why he helped build your commonwealth. Less chat, let's get out of this hell camp," He paused, "comrade."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Poland's tears started to fall, and he wasn't sure what he was crying about; maybe because he felt included this time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________\---  
____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________From the Soviet Union with Love,_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________May this letter find you in good health, as on this very glorious day in European history, Adolf Hitler and his newly-wed wife Eva Braun committed suicide in the Führer's bunker; may he burn in Hell._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________Perhaps, that is too harsh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________On the contrary, Japan is still on and about and the Soviets are doing all they can to fight the Japanese out of East Asia; hopefully he may join his failed allies very soon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________The war is still on, but it's only a matter of time--one last thing to do is to negotiate the terms of surrender which General Alfred Jodi will be signing (since both Hitler AND Germany are currently dead), this will be taking place in Karlshost, Berlin. I am also finding a way to get China to attend, as he is in need of utter hope at this moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________I'll be expecting all of you there._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________To the Allied be the Glory,  
USSR  
____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________As Britain stopped reading the letter, only the quiet hums of the wind passing into the window responded to him. There they were--America, France, and Britain or as USSR called them, his Western Comrades._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"He's...It's over?" France said in disbelief._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Britain made a 'mhm' sound and shrugged, "Well, I guess so."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Again, the tapping noise of the passed rain in London was the only sound to fill the room; that is until America stood with such excitement that his wooden chair fell over with a loud thump, "HAHA! HELL YES!" "Can you get any louder, you wanker?!" Britain angrily scolded but America but the Eagle failed to stop his victorious dance._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"Germany's down, boys! Quick, guys, we should call this day something really cool," He exclaimed, "I suggest 'America saves the world Day'!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Britain smacked the back of his head, "Bloody Hell, if anything, I probably saved the day! If I ever surrendered during 1940 everyone would be under Nazi rule right now!" France laughed, catching the attention of both nations, "Hey, we all saved the day--mostly USSR to be honest." America playfully glared, "Hey!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"Well, as I am with Mon Très bien names, I suggest VE-Day," Seeing as he had caught both of their attention, France continued forth, "Victory in Europe Day." He said as China came into mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________America grinned, liking the idea of the word 'Victory' in any name as Britain actually nodded thoughtfully, "Not bad, frog."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"I come up with the most amazing, mon chéri." France smiled proudly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Britain rolled his eyes, "The Maginot Line surely wasn't your best, then." France playfully threw a lime lying in a basket on the table, which America effortlessly caught--the magic of repetitive baseball, "That's crossing the line, Limey!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________The called 'Limey' laughed, before sending back his comeback, "Like how Germany crossed the line?" France snorted. As soon as a particular war ends, all the nations could just laugh at the past._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________There are just...Some events better left out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________  
Привет America,_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Unless my messenger is a spying traitor, I expect that this will be sent to America and him only. If that’s the case, then continue reading—otherwise, whoever else reads further into this letter, I will send you on a suicide plane to the Moon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________I assume that you have already consulted Britain and Canada with this matter, which I applaud you of, but you seem to be forgetting another nation. If Russia had known him well during the Great War, then I know about how much he hates to be unaware of any big decisions you take action upon. This is only a suggestion, for I know you are an idiot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Consult about this to France, otherwise, don’t even bomb him. However, I know how much you care about China and your only South East Asian colony and the only way to get Japan back into his country is to cause destruction. You’ve done this so many times so why back out? Sometimes, destruction is the answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________If you continue on leaving our other Allies, especially France, unaware of your nuke creations, then I won’t even care anymore. Do whatever the hell you want, but don’t say I did not warn you._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________Sincerely,  
USSR  
____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America folded the paper back into its envelope and placed it in his study’s drawers. USSR is right, but...How is he supposed to tell the other Allies that he’s building nuclear weapons?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Still, he believes that the Empire of Japan is just...his shadow. Otherwise, he’s going to blame himself forever. He’s lucky that China isn’t as bitter as he was before when the Opium Wars happened, perhaps he warmed up during the early moments in the World War when he taught China how to defend himself from the Japanese._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Is there still a way to forgive himself for the Westernization? He had seen the infamous Empire of Japan in person, and he’s positive that it just had to be a shadow. After all, the normal Japan didn’t have Purple eyes and never smiled so maliciously, right?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________His train of thoughts was halted by knocking on the door. “Yes?” America called, and a man entered the room with papers in his hands, “Sir, Little Boy and Fat Man are ready.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Speaking of..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Hold it,” America said, “August is near, so prepare anyway, alright?” The man nodded and bowed, his face of nervous hesitation before he confidently lifted his face to speak, “Sir, these bombs could erase entire cities, we are playing dangerous chess pieces. We’ll face tons of blames, sir, are you sure about this?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The Eagle’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, which is a sight other nations would definitely pay to see, “No, I’m not.” He glanced at the framed picture of Truman in his study, and then to the telephone on the desk, “It’s not my decision, after all. Thank you, you are dismissed.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The man nodded and left the room almost immediately, once again leaving America to his decisions._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He hates making decisions._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Still, he grabbed the telephone and entered the familiar numbers of the President’s, placing it casually between his jaw and shoulder as he grabbed the unorganized papers and attempted to fit them, when he noticed a hastily torn piece of paper fall from the envelope USSR had sent. America grabbed it from curiosity, and noticed that it’s written as if in a rush and that it wasn’t typed but handwritten._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________‘As a nation, never trust your boss. Obey, but never trust.’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________What’s the point in remembering? Some other nations would tell him to always look forward and only forward, or you’ll lose track of your present. But, Japan had always taught him otherwise._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He remembered so clearly that day—around 1853, when he first knocked into those tatami shōji doors. Frankly, it wasn’t his choice to be there, he was just merely commanded by General Matthew Perry since he apparently “is too immature to support his own arse, so buckle up into our ships otherwise we’ll banish you and build an entirely new government.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Unlike his own room in the White House, he was surprised to find that the representative of this closed empire chose to reside in a small tatami house inside of Edo. As America is in thought, the sliding doors were opened by a relatively short raccoon in what America would’ve dumbly called as ‘weird robes’._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh, hey! Are you...?” “Japan, はい; you are...America, yes?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The said Western country grinned at his name, “Yeah! You must be expecting me?” The raccoon nodded, “Y-Yes. ごめんなさい, I do not speak English very well.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America laughs heartily, “I admit your pronunciations are pretty choppy, but other than that, you’re pretty good, man! Besides, we can understand other languages ‘cuz we’re nations, remember?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The raccoon seems to get even more flustered in embarrassment, “O-Oh, that’s right. It’s been very long since this empire had opened up its doors to other nations such as China.” He pauses before looking as if he realized something, “Ah! How rude of me! Please, welcome yourself in.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America did as he was told, at the same time taking in the simplicity he’s unfamiliar with. He takes in the sight of a low table he just couldn’t understand at first sight until Japan rushed to it and kneeled comfortable on a pillow in front of the furniture. There, he poured steaming tea into two cups, then looked up at America expectantly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The Western nation hesitated, but sat with his legs crossed opposite of Japan, “So! Well, as you might know, I’m here for a reason!” Japan calmly sips from his own cup, “Yes?” “I come from across the world! Pretty cool, I know, but there are a lot of cooler stuff that us from the West could offer!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America was acting like such a giddy child at that point, which he always is—but it really is cool to have a new buddy other than nations like France (who is...not doing good at the moment). Besides, he’s not on good terms with England, but this gives an opportunity to fix that by recommending him to Japan._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I’m sorry, America-san, but our Empire is closed off for a reason...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“What’s that reason?” America twisted his head to the side as Japan struggled to think, “I am...not sure. But you see I have no choice but to trust my own shogun; I am under his rule, after all.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America groaned in irritation, “I know, right! They’re always blabbering about doing this and doing that—like, chill out, man! I’m not a machine!” Japan smiles and chuckled at the enthusiasm, which he hadn’t seen ever since he’d isolated himself from China and Korea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“But that’s why I’m here, bro! I came here to show you some pretty cool new technology from England, Russia, and even from my own country. I swear they’re better than Netherlands! Actually, I can’t promise that, haha!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Japan nods politely, “I am interested to see. But let’s enjoy this nice day for now, it’s a nice weather for reminiscing.” As America swivels his unsipped tea around, he looks up in curiosity, “Reminiscing?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The raccoon smiles softly, “Mhm, recalling the past. How else will you move forward, if you do not remember how you pass the same obstacles you have already faced?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________So, he is truly something new..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Heh,” America attempted to stop his smiles, but he ceased and started to go into a bliss moment of squealing and laughter in between, but this alarmed Japan. “W-What is it?” America nearly threw himself at the table as he recklessly placed both of his claws on Japan’s shoulders._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Dude! Perry was right, you guys ARE cool!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“T-That’s very flattering, but please respect my bubble—and y...you might break the table!” America obeyed, quickly going back into his place, “Sorry!” He grinned, “Anyway, everyone else in Europe is either really rude or loudly impolite! But like, they’re all about the future or whatever...But you Easterners are into the past! That’s awesome, I deem you one of my new best friends; don’t tell France.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Japan’s eyes shifted into those of worry, which anyone ever forced into this situation with America, would understand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“France? I am s-sorry, I do not know Europe well.” America gasped in fake offense, bouncing excitedly on his seat once again, “Perfect! I have to introduce you to some of my closest friends. They’d love to trade with you Asians, ya know? You have cool spices and rice and stuff or whatever.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The Western chuckles in acknowledgement before refilling his cup with the warm beverage, “Say, America-san, do you still pay respects to your ancestors? It is a very holy ritual to perform in my country—even if I don’t have any, I pray to those who have passed.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________This made America pause and think for a while. “Huh, actually, I don’t remember any ancestor of mine. I mean, there’s the whole deal with Britain ‘adopting’ me or heck but it’s not like I’m his direct son,” He paused, “But I...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________A vague image of childhood fills his mind, one with a Golden Eagle with a War bonnet over her head, in that memory (if it is one) the said Eagle seems to be placing something gently onto America’s head. She’s so familiar, but America was never sure who she was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Japan stared at him as he left off his sentence on a pause, “I remember someone, but...at the same time, I don’t.” The polite nation nodded and gave a motivating expression, “That is normal. Even if you do not know them, it is important to still recall your past ancestors. Without them, you are not here.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America regained his carefree smile, “That is true! Say, your English is pretty wide!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Japan made a quick flustered face, “Err, well...I’ve been practicing through reading ever since I heard that you’re coming.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh, that explains why your pronunciations are kind of weird. Since you learned easily from just reading, I think I won’t mind helping you while I’m still here!” Japan beams even lighter than before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Ah, that would be wonderful! ありがとう.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Looking back...They really did become the closest of friends. And especially meeting him during the time that France was still recovering from the fall of his multiple governments, America needed a friend to confide in. That friend became Japan; perhaps, someone as patient as him was just perfect for someone as obnoxiously annoying as America._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________So that’s why he won’t—CAN’T believe it..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________This sick bastard can’t be the person to always keep him on his toes. The usual simple yukata he used to wear was replaced by the white, shoulder-bladed uniform most of his prestigious soldiers wore, but his sleeves extended longer at the side with the Rising Sun embedded into both of them—showing just how important he is to the Empire of the Rising Sun._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Additionally, a detachable, floor length Royal Purple coat hung over his back, and as it drags over the floor, everyone would be constantly reminded of how significant he is._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________To say the least, he wanted nothing but attention._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh, it’s you.” The Empire of Japan rolled his Purple eyes, and then grinned, making sure to show his sharp fangs, “Well, こんにちは, America. Or hello, whichever way you Western nations like to greet each other.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America completely ignored the half-assed greeting—it was December 10, 1941. France was still deep in a comatose, Britain was falling apart and so was the world. He hoped to feel the familiar comfort of his supposed friend, but the only comfort he had was a bombing in Hawaii._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Dude, what the hell was that?!” America could only angrily complain, but Japan continued humming with his legs rested upon his desk, “Language, buddy.” “Shut up! Don’t act innocent, ‘Japan’, what was that three days ago?!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Japan started to laugh, “Oh, ahahaha! That!” He stood up, admiring the new statues and objects in his westernized study room as if America wasn’t there at all, “Don’t laugh it away, man. You like, taught me about keeping culture and this place doesn’t feel Japanese at all!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“That was just some bullshit China made me believe. Ah, speaking of the old man, he was extremely feisty, you know?” America felt a sick twist in his stomach as he knew what Japan was ‘recalling’, “It was a great challenge, indeed, but he was still beautiful like that. Even after years of age and Opium drugs, he felt pure. Do you know just how few fucking threats about Korea would get him t—“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“SHUT UP! Shut up, shut up!” America shouted, obviously nearly out of control, “You’re disgusting! Building racist camps dedicated to making Jews work to death is one thing, but forcing yourself on your OWN family—I don’t know you! The Japan I know is polite, kind, speaks in e-extremely formal English...H-He...He’s obsessed with really simple stuff that he doesn’t even want to live in the Imperial palace! You’re ANYONE but Japan!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The other, again, rolled his eyes nonchalantly as he was wiping dust off a recently-yielded katana, taking none of America’s unusual rage, “Hey, hey, don’t you act all naïve about me,” Japan turns to him, “You’re part of the reason why I’m like this, remember? You did not disappoint, the West really is actually amazing. Imperialism is a trend there, so...Naturally, I’d try it out.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________America struggled to speak, only starting up with desperate stutters before coming up with a sentence, “I just...It’s not like I ever wanted to Westernize you! They just dragged me off my chair and sent me to your country! B-But I stayed because you were so patient and I’ve never been with someone like that before...Please, I need my friend back, Japa—“Before he could end his pathetic statement, the shadow country wielded his katana to America’s neck, his unfamiliar eyes burning deep within the eagle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Do me a favor and don’t even think about coming back just to beg,” Japan glared with no trace of a smile on his face, “Come back ONLY when you’re ready to fight.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________And he came back, four years later._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Well, I’m ready, not-Japan.” He muttered unconsciously to himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________This time, he had nuclear missiles and when he drops them to this Empire, everyone will be proud of him and say that he saved the day or something. Yet, at the same time, America knows the reason is beyond that...When France mentioned the possibility of the shadows, this led America to believe that, “Of course he was a shadow!” And...He’ll save the real Japan from that shadow, like Britain saved France from becoming Vichy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Japan taught him how to be a good friend, it cannot go to waste._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________These bombs...Cannot go to waste._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Target locked. I’m ready to fire at Nagasaki, sir.” America took a deep breath, and told himself that this is for everyone he loved._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Fire.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________And just like that, the next day, the infamously prideful Empire of Japan threw all of their dignity out the window and kneeled before America, hands up in the air, but with an unfazed grin on his half-burnt face. From here, you can still see the blazing cities of what once were Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and you can paint the whole picture one you see the still-burning wound spread over half of Japan’s head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I never wanted to do this, Japan.” America shakily raised his pistol, his aim set on the head of the Empire, trying to forget about his ragged breathing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I know you never did, America-san.” A familiar soft and kind voice said, “You never did want to follow your boss’ orders, did you not? Then...Wouldn’t it hurt to be free?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________That’s what everyone told him, too...But Japan had always given him a different advice—“Always choose the right thing as opposed to your free will.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________And when he finally looked up into those deceitful Purple eyes, America knows that this is not the same Empire to have given him that piece of hope._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He pulled the trigger._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He sat so peacefully on his piano. Through all this chaos, how could he just do that? Is it because Germany’s dead? Did he really just NOT care?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Austria.” A firm, hesitant but obviously familiar tune of that voice was enough for the said country to turn and take a look over his shoulder to see his beloved. He stood up, almost alarmingly fast then stumbled to approach her, “H-Hungary—““Don’t touch me.” She said, forcing Austria to stand at least a foot away from her, but he obeyed and only stared at the nation who he couldn’t recognize, yet recognized from the bottom of his heart._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The back of her hair was chopped down until none could touch her neck, but the familiar bangs she rocked still remained. Whenever Austria visualized her, it was always in those traditional Hungarian dresses—so unlike this Jade Green war uniform she wore, and with an assault rifle still hanging on her back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I...” Well, what’s the point in hiding it? “I missed you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She didn’t reply, as if she wanted to but just couldn’t. Hungary had to remember that he’s snobbish and good for nothing, but she can’t help but feel so drawn in again—it already made her visit him for no reason, it’s that feeling she felt when she was still much younger and more naïve about the rules of life...She’s absolutely smitten._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She didn’t do anything but just tear up. Hungary rarely cried, otherwise she never does, but Austria still wasn’t alarmed, he just confidently crossed that 1 foot line and hugged her into his comforting chest. Hungary did not pull away, “I hate you.” She said; her voice hoarse after days of not speaking ever since Germany was killed. He wanted to...maybe shout, get mad, say a meaningless inspirational quote, but he can only speak in a tired voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________September 2, 1945_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Everyone’s finally free._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________9:02_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________All the Allies were on board on USS Missouri; less because of wanting to witness the surrender, but more of the fact that this is the last time they’ll be together as friends. After this, the friendships they established between each other wouldn’t matter anymore. Merely one stroke from General Yoshijiro Umezu and everything is over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________9:03_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Everyone was quiet as Japanese men gathered around the Foreign Minister and the General to escort them to where they’ll be signing the terms of surrender. Everyone—from America, Britain, France, China, USSR and Russia—they all exchanged a handshake and a smile. The Japanese contemplated the favors for fixing the damage they’ve caused, then took hold of their pens and wrote their names on the bottom of the paper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________9:04_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Everyone bursted into joy, rejoicing as they warmly gave each other pats, handshakes, and hugs. America’s booming laughter was heard by all, “WE WON! IT’S FINALLY OVER!!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________USSR smiled, patting the shorter Russia on the back, “The war really is done, after all.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________China’s choked sobs emitted quietly, when he profusely thanked each and every member of the Allied Forces. His grin was marvelous indeed, complete pure happiness replacing all of the bags of sorrow he carried through the entire war._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________France elbowed the relatively calm Britain, “Have some fun, mon chéri! We just won a World War, how’d you feel?” The Oriole smirked pridefully, “Well, I’m used to it.” France laughed, bearing a nice, kind smile that Britain, beforehand, would’ve probably never expected to see._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Merci, for saving me back there, Angleterre. I would be Vichy by now if you never saved me, Mon ami, I owe you a lot.” The Monarch glared, face flustered as he is obviously not used to compliments, let alone one from his long-term rival, “Well, I didn’t want to be alone when you suddenly up and went, you frog! That was...the least I could do for ruining for nation many times, anyway.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________France poked his tongue out, “Hey, I take pride in destroying England a ton! Don’t use that as an excuse.” “FORGET ALL SORROWS! WE’RE GONNA CELEBRAATEEE!!!” America joined in as he dragged Russia to the duo, “I even brought my bestest friend! It’s time to PARTY!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Arghh!” Russia struggled to get unhanded, “Отойдите от меня, вы влагалище! Я пошлю тебя на солнце!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________This is..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________France found it; he finally found a purpose, a meaning, something to fight for. He found something to fall for. It would be for his Allies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He will fall for his Allies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> hi  
> i most likely offended so many people  
> this is why i didnt want to post it  
> but here it is  
> thanks dia


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